


Not for All the Stars

by Lefaym



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lefaym/pseuds/Lefaym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda to CoE Day Five: Tears are a luxury that Gwen allows herself only rarely these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not for All the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to amand_r on LJ for the beta.

Tears are a luxury that Gwen allows herself only rarely these days, but she indulges in them now, as she and Rhys make their way back to the car. Tomorrow she'll become the leader again—the real leader who won't be able to hold onto silly hopes about Jack returning and making everything right again—but here, on the hillside with her husband's arm around her waist, she lets herself cry, allowing her grief to wash over her.

A distant detached part of Gwen realises that it's been months since she's been able to cry like this; even with pregnancy-induced hormones raging through her body, she's had to hold back more often than not, because Lois is still new to this, and she needs someone strong in charge, not someone who breaks down whenever she remembers the way things used to be. And Johnson—Gwen hasn't figured Johnson out yet, but she sure as hell isn't going to show any sign of weakness in front of her before she does.

But now—it's as though seeing Jack again and then watching him dissolve before her eyes has unlocked something in her. This is more than the quiet weeping she's allowed herself on odd nights curled up in bed with Rhys, this is a river in flood after a long drought, and Gwen doesn't even try to stop its current from catching her.

Rhys needs to keep his eyes on the rough dirt track as he navigates their way down the overly steep hillside, but as soon as they return to a sealed road he reaches a hand out to her and grasps her shoulder tightly.

"It'll be all right, love," he says. "I'm not going anywhere."

Gwen smiles at him through her tears, but she something inside her crumbles all over again at his words, because there is a part of her that wishes that she had run away to the stars with Jack tonight, and there's part of her that thinks she would have done it too, if it wasn't for the baby growing her in her belly, tying her to this planet, to this life. But Rhys is here, now, with his hand still on her shoulder, and she knows that he means every word that crosses his lips.

"I love you," Gwen says.

Her tears slow as they begin to wind their way through Cardiff's suburban streets, where everything seems so normal, and they've almost stopped by the time they finally pull up in front of their house. Rhys keeps his hand on her elbow as they make their way up the path towards the front door, and she leans in towards him, even though she doesn't really need the help.

Once they're inside, Gwen gives Rhys's arm a quick squeeze before she heads to the loo, and while she's sitting down, she blows her nose noisily on some toilet paper. She can hear Rhys messing about in the kitchen, and when she emerges, there's a cup of chamomile tea waiting for her on the table.

"You're bloody wonderful," she calls out shakily.

"I know," Rhys replies, from the next room.

As Gwen sips at the steaming cup, she lets her mind go blank for a bit, and she only starts thinking again when she feels Rhys's hands slip around her shoulders, gently kneading at the tense muscles there. She closes her eyes, sore from all the crying, and imagines that they're back in their old flat, and tomorrow she'll go into work at the Hub beneath the Plass, and Jack will be there and—

Gwen cuts the thought short. No good can come of dwelling on the past.

"We should go upstairs," she says, pushing her now-empty mug away from her.

"Sounds good to me." Rhys gives her shoulders one final squeeze, then steps around the chair to offer her his hand.

They make their way up the stairs slowly, and Gwen grimaces, wishing that it didn't feel _quite_ so much like the baby was trying to crack her lower ribs. When they reach their bedroom, Rhys helps her undress, so that she doesn't have to bend down, and she pulls an old loose T-shirt over her head. As Rhys changes into his own pyjamas (or rather, a bright orange Harwood's Haulage shirt), Gwen re-arranges the pillows on their bed, so that two of them will rest beneath her upper back when she lies down.

Gwen lowers herself onto the mattress carefully, and Rhys comes and kneels beside her, taking her left hand in both of his. She knows that her face is all swollen and splotchy, and her hair is a mess, and her eyes are probably still red from all the tears, but Rhys looks at her like she's some kind of goddess, and when she turns her head towards him, he leans across and kisses her, lightly at first and then more deeply as her lips open under his.

One of Rhys's hands skims its way along her body and comes to rest in Gwen's hair as he lowers his lips to Gwen's neck, to that spot just beneath her jaw-line. She moans softly, and she hears Rhys make a noise in the back of his throat, and for a moment there's nothing more important in the world than the feel of his lips on her skin.

"That all right, love?" Rhys asks her.

"Yes," she hears herself saying. "God, yes."

He kisses her harder then, and Gwen blindly reaches out to grab a fistful of his shirt in one hand, trying to draw him in closer to her. The longer Rhys kisses her, the less clearly she can see the image of Jack fading away, over and over again in her mind's eye, and when his left hand touches her stomach, underneath her shirt, she gasps as the sensation.

Rhys lifts her T-shirt higher, and Gwen finds her domed belly exposed, with its angry red stretch marks and popped navel. He pulls away from her mouth and climbs onto the bed, between her legs, and then he lowers his head to her stomach, so he can run his lips and his tongue along every line on her skin. He pauses a moment when he feels the baby move inside her, and she hears him chuckle fondly before he returns his attention to the thin line of hair that runs from her navel to her groin.

Gwen smiles as she sees Rhys's head disappear beneath the bulge of her stomach and she thanks whatever gods might be out there that the baby's movements are only gentle ones right now. All thoughts of the baby leave her head, however, when she feels Rhys's tongue press against her clit, through her panties. And then he's pulling them down over her hips, along her thighs, and she lifts her legs to help him. When her underwear is finally discarded on the floor, Rhys nestles his head between her legs again, and Gwen begins to lose herself completely in the sensation of her husband's mouth against her cunt.

She cries out softly when she feels him ease two fingers inside her. She raises her hips as best she can, telling him she wants more, to go deeper. A third finger joins the first two, and Gwen feels herself filled wonderfully, and then he's curling them inside of her, and suddenly Gwen is coming, waves of heat shuddering through her body.

For several long moments, Gwen is barely aware of anything but the aftershocks running through her body, and the vague knowledge that Rhys is rolling over and scrambling up the bed, so that he's lying beside her, facing her. Gwen rolls inwards onto her side too, because she's far enough along now that she can't lie on her back for too long anymore, even with the pillows, and also because she wants to pull Rhys in to kiss her again, so she can taste herself on his tongue, so she can distract herself from the images that are returning to her as the afterglow begins to fade.

Gwen runs her hands along Rhys's chest, underneath that hideous orange shirt, and then she tugs at the elastic of his Y-fronts and exposes his still-hard cock, taking it deftly in her hand. She keeps kissing him as she rubs her thumb along his foreskin, as she feels his erection grow larger beneath her fingers. Her arm is only just beginning to feel tired when he comes, shifting quickly onto his back to spare the sheets.

She holds him for a moment afterwards, as he cleans up the mess on his stomach with some tissues, but then she needs to pee again, so she heaves herself out of bed, grabbing a clean pair of underpants on her way to their little en-suite. With the door closed behind her, she finally lets her thoughts return to Jack, up there, alone. Gwen feels the tears start to gather in her eyes again, but this time she blinks them away. She's cried enough, now.

When Gwen returns to the bedroom, she finds Rhys with his eyes closed, snoring softly. She smiles at him as she switches off the light, and climbs awkwardly under the covers. Turning herself back onto her side, Gwen watches Rhys for a moment, in the sliver of moonlight that slips in through a gap in the curtain; the rise and fall of his chest, and the little bit of drool falling from the corner of his mouth. She reaches out and takes one of his hands with hers as she closes her eyes, and all at once she knows that she wouldn't exchange this for all the stars in the universe.


End file.
